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Inspired by Yom Kippur services in 5778, this poem reflects one writer's view of the most holy day in the Jewish year.

Elul, the Hebrew month that precedes the High Holidays, is traditionally a time of both rejoicing and somber reflection when we take stock of our spiritual selves and our lives. Elul rituals prepare us for the many acts of repentance and forgiveness that are hallmarks of the upcoming Days of Awe, starting with Rosh HaShanah.

In the game “Truth-or-Dare,” I choose “truth” nearly every time. I’m not much of a dare-taker. Thus, if you and I were playing “Special Edition Truth-or-Dare: High Holy Days,” I would confess that the prayer Avinu Malkeinu provides me with both my second-favorite liturgical moment and my second-greatest pet peeve of the year’s liturgy. (Note: Even though I may have to repent for it, I will leave you in suspense about my favorite liturgical moment and my greatest liturgical pet peeve. Also, “Special Edition Truth-or-Dare: High Holy Days” is fictional, although I hereby declare copyright in the event Mattel or Hasbro comes knocking at my door.)

There are many elements which make the High Holy Days a unique experience.  Often, congregations swell to double or triple their usual size, the musical settings of even common liturgy are different, and some might alter their dress by wearing either traditionally all-white garments or more formal wear than they would sport on Shabbat. Some congregations even have unique garments to dress their Torah scrolls in white. 

Recently, I dusted off my shofar and have been brushing up on my shofar-blowing skills to prepare for the upcoming High Holidays. 

Poet Stacey Zisook Robinson shares a reflection about the upcoming Day of Atonement.

Given that Yom Kippur is the holiest day on the Jewish calendar, it makes sense that it can, and should, be joyful.